A/N: I was in the mood for some fluff and I was listening to some horribly addictive songs. So of course I had to grab the PJ-ship to dance for me.
Please bear in mind English isn't my mother language, so please notify me of any grammar or spelling mistakes. Spell check said everything is okay, but you know how reliable those are.
Warnings: Intimacy
An upbeat song floated from the Rec room into the hallway where Secretary of Defense John Keller was walking. And that suited him just fine. He could use a party after a long day, filled with meetings and a hefty discussion with that tiring agent Simmons. He could only hope Simmons wasn't annoying people in the Rec room.
Keller opened the human door and by the looks of it there were no other humans around. A single silver mech he recognized as Jazz stood in the middle of the room, his visor dark. The mech swayed with the music and apparently hadn't noticed his entrance, or was ignoring him.
Good, now he wouldn't have to endure remarks about the caffeine he was about to drink was bad for the body. His old body could handle it just fine, thank you.
Not that Jazz would say such a thing. He was way too easygoing for that.
The music wasn't as loud in the small kitchen, muffled by the walls, but he still couldn't hear the coffee machine gurgle. What he did hear were metallic footsteps. Jazz was walking around. Only… they weren't regular footsteps. They were irregular, yet regular to the beat of the music. His curiosity piqued, Keller poked his head around the kitchen door, and immediately forgot about his coffee.
Jazz was dancing. Or at least, he appeared to be. He darted left and right, made such impossible quick and gracious motions; it was like he was made of liquid metal.
He contorted his body in ways that reminded Keller of transformation, and sometimes parts of the mech indeed transformed.
Yet there was an uncontrolled and wild air about the dancing. It was mesmerizing to watch. And this whole time Jazz's visor remained unlit, so the mech was dancing blind.
Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention; the mech door slid open and a second mech wandered into the Rec room, its gaze fixed on the electronic device in its hand. A padd, the Autobots called it. He recognized this mech as Prowl, the logical tactician. The black and white police-bot looked up and for the first time ever Keller saw a smile on the metal face.
Why did Prowl smile now, of all times?
His brain provided the answer a second later: he was told these two had some sort of relationship. The medic of the team, Ratchet, had tried to explain the concept to him.
Their Sparks shared the same frequency, that's what attracted them to each other. And with that frequency they were able to synchronize parts of their CPUs. This way they could relay messages and emotions.
How these two could have similar frequencies escaped Keller. They were so different. Simply put, Jazz was an extrovert, and Prowl an introvert.
And yet the tactician smiled at Jazz's dancing. He must've sent something over their shared frequency (a bond, Ratchet had called it) because Jazz abruptly turned 180° and lighted his visor. The mech however didn't stop dancing, though his movements became much more controlled. A huge grin appeared on Jazz's facial plated and he said something in Cybetronian. Prowl answered and put away his padd.
He glanced about the room, but didn't spot Keller. He spoke, Jazz answered and danced closer. Jazz said something again and grabbed Prowl's hand just as a slow song came on.
Keller expected the stoic tactician to refuse, it was illogical and conspicuous, two things he knew the mech disliked. But the tactician moved along with Jazz, albeit a bit stiff and hesitating. His feet barely moved, so Jazz had to keep in place as well. The saboteur didn't like that, judging by how his grin faltered. But he was patient. He tolerated the stiffness and uninspired pretending-to-be-a-tree-dancing, but when the next, slightly faster song began, he began to lead Prowl.
They finally moved around and Prowl's doorwings crept lower as he moved with Jazz, whose grin regained its former glory. His hands moved over Prowl's body, guiding him back and forth, turned him around and slowly but surely Prowl gained confidence. His movements became surer and he started moving in his usual confident and liquid manner.
Robots shouldn't be able to move that fluidly, yet they accomplished it.
A fast-paced song replaced the old song. Jazz leaned towards Prowl and spoke right next to his audios. A hand of the silver mech swept over the doorwings of his partner, at which they jumped back to their usual high position. Jazz retreated, and to Keller's surprise (and slight horror) Prowl glowered predatory at the saboteur.
After that, the two of them moved like quicksilver. Encouraged by the upbeat song both mechs danced around, next and even under each other. They spun and transformed as if the laws of gravity didn't apply to them.
Jazz was the better dancer by far, but Prowl tried his best. The silver mech guided him and let his hands wander over doorwings, which earned him predatory glowers and a smile.
Keller couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was something intimate, but he couldn't look away. Jazz whispered in Prowl's audios and Prowl got his hands on Jazz's horns at which Jazz appreciatively revved his engine.
The song was replaced by a happy-go-lucky song and the two mechs danced on. But now they were playing and teasing each other. Their bodies almost touching but never all the way, twisting and turning around the other. Doorwings evaded the questing hands and they waltzed across the room in a strange game of keep-away in half-transformations and a series of award-winning break dancing moves courtesy of Jazz.
Suddenly Jazz grew tired of the game and leapt at Prowl. The tactician was surprised but appreciative as the saboteur started grinding against him. Doorwings and horns were still the hotspots, though they varied with other caresses.
The music reached a climax and Jazz suddenly grabbed Prowl, put an arm around his middle and dipped the mech as low as he could. Jazz spoke, but in the middle of his sentence the music stopped and his voice was unnaturally loud in the large room. Prowl's answer was at a much lower volume.
Keller never felt the sneeze coming, but it was violent and loud. He immediately was the center of attention. When Prowl saw who it was he tried to get up out of Jazz's dip, but the saboteur didn't count on that. With much clattering they both went down. The tactician was quick to regain his footing, his engine still revving but his neutral expression and high doorwings back in place.
"I am sorry, mister Keller, we had not noticed your arrival."
He said curtly, not a trace of the intimate dance just shared with Jazz. Or wait, was that a twitch of his facial plates, a shiver in his doorwing.
Keller shook his head, delaying his answer, searching for words.
"I should be the one who's sorry, I should've made my presence known. But you're both excellent dancers."
Jazz had also gotten up and laughed at that remark.
"And that's why he's my bondmate. And now if you'll excuse us, I have to convince Prowl this isn't the end of the world."
The tactician started to protest, but choked when Jazz let his hand wander to a doorwing. The saboteur gently led him to the door.
"Have a nice day!"
Jazz called, and Prowl started to apologize again to Keller, but was shut out when the door closed.
In the silence Keller once again shook his head.
Dancing, flirting robots. What a job.